The Divergence

───

Ethan watched the upload bar crawl toward completion.

Seventy-eight percent.

Eighty-one.

Eighty-six.

He leaned back in his chair, one hand resting over his mouth while the corners of his lips slowly lifted.

The room around him was dim, lit mainly by the glow of two monitors and a small lamp on the far side of the desk. Empty drink cans crowded one corner. A notepad lay open beside his keyboard, filled with rushed phrases he had written while replaying the footage.

No remorse.

No apology.

Threatening behavior.

Open mockery of victims.

He read the lines again and smiled.

Perfect.

When he'd approached the vampires outside the apartment building, part of him had expected them to refuse to answer.

That would've been useful enough.

Silence could be framed as guilt.

Walking away could be called avoidance.

Anger could be called proof.

Anything they did would've given him something.

What he hadn't expected was for them to answer so openly.

The golden-haired one had practically handed him the story herself.

He replayed the clip once more.

Her smiling face filled the screen, empty crimson eyes staring directly into the camera.

"So... if you think we're monsters... you wouldn't be too surprised if we killed you too?"

Ethan paused the video at that exact moment.

The framing was excellent.

Her head was slightly tilted.

Her expression was calm.

Pretty, even.

That made it better.

A monster that looked like a monster wasn't interesting.

A monster that looked like a doll and smiled while threatening someone...

That drew attention.

He clicked another section.

The red-haired vampire laughing about grieving with the families over the attackers' stupidity.

Then the orange-haired one calling him an idiot.

Then all seven walking away without a single apology.

He sat back again, satisfaction warming his chest.

He hadn't been killed.

He hadn't even been touched.

And now he had clear footage showing exactly what people feared.

Or at least...

Something he could present that way.

The upload reached one hundred percent.

A notification appeared.

Published.

Ethan exhaled and rubbed both hands together.

"There."

His livestream had already attracted more viewers than anything he'd done before.

The full edited recording would do even better.

He'd cut out most of the pauses.

Removed the moments where the vampires mentioned being attacked first more than once.

Kept enough context that nobody could accuse him of inventing the encounter outright.

But the emotional shape of the video was his.

That was what mattered.

He'd opened with footage of the vampires approaching.

Then his question about remorse.

Then their answers.

Then the threat.

Then their laughter.

Simple.

Effective.

By the time most viewers reached the end, they'd already know what they were supposed to feel.

Ethan refreshed the page.

Comments were already appearing.

You were incredibly brave.

Thank you for standing up to them.

Someone finally asked what everyone else was too afraid to.

They would have killed you if the camera wasn't there.

Humanity needs more people like you.

His smile widened.

A few comments criticized him.

Said he had provoked them.

Said the blood clinic attackers had opened fire first.

Said he had ignored the security guard's death.

Ethan barely read those.

Every argument increased engagement.

Every angry reply pushed the video farther.

Whether people praised him or hated him, they were still watching.

He leaned forward and checked the view count again.

Climbing.

Fast.

He didn't care nearly as much as he pretended to.

The dead attackers?

He didn't know them.

The security guard?

Tragic, certainly.

The vampires?

He hadn't met any before that night.

If the reports were true, maybe they had acted in self-defense.

Maybe they hadn't.

It didn't matter.

Truth alone rarely made anyone famous.

A story did.

And Ethan had found one.

The brave independent reporter confronting dangerous creatures while officials tried to silence the public.

That image was far more useful than the truth.

He'd approached seven vampires because the risk seemed manageable.

They were walking around publicly.

They had been released by police.

They weren't attacking random people.

That suggested he probably wouldn't die.

Probably.

Still...

The fear had been real when all seven looked at him at once.

He remembered how his heartbeat had pounded.

How the golden-haired vampire's smile became impossible to read.

How every instinct in him had demanded that he step back.

That part made the footage even better.

Fear looked convincing on camera.

He'd played the righteous reporter because it worked.

Because people wanted someone to say what they were thinking.

Because outrage spread faster than caution.

If acting like he cared about justice made him famous...

Then he cared about justice.

Publicly.

A notification appeared on the side of the screen.

Breaking news.

Southern Oakridge Blood Clinic destroyed in overnight explosion.

Ethan clicked immediately.

Photographs loaded.

Flames.

Firefighters.

Blackened walls.

Another headline followed beneath it.

Two Oakridge officers killed after armed suspects opened fire during attempted arrest.

His smile faded.

Not from sorrow.

From irritation.

The news cycle was already moving.

His vampire confrontation risked being buried under newer events.

He read quickly.

The blood clinic explosion had no confirmed casualties.

The shooting involved suspects accused of attacking vampires earlier that night.

The vampires had reportedly tracked them, called police, and remained outside while officers entered.

Ethan frowned.

That version made the vampires look cooperative.

Responsible, even.

He couldn't have that.

Not now.

Not when his story had finally begun gaining traction.

He checked the comments again.

People were already shifting topics.

Someone asked whether the clinic explosion was connected.

Another wondered why the vampires hadn't saved the officers.

Ethan sat up straighter.

There it was.

An angle.

He opened his recording software.

Adjusted the camera.

Ran one hand through his hair.

Then pressed record.

His expression changed immediately.

Concerned.

Grave.

Earnest.

"This is Ethan Vale."

He paused carefully.

"New information has emerged concerning last night's violence in Oakridge."

He continued, voice measured.

"Only hours after I confronted a group of vampires over their apparent lack of remorse for the blood clinic killings, the city's second vampire blood facility was destroyed."

He let the statement hang.

"Authorities are calling it an accident."

"However, given the timing, serious questions must be asked."

He leaned closer to the camera.

"Was the explosion truly accidental?"

"Or was evidence being destroyed?"

He had no proof.

He didn't need proof to ask questions.

Questions protected accusations.

He continued.

"Later that same night, two police officers were killed while responding to suspects allegedly connected to an attack on those same vampires."

His expression tightened.

"Reports suggest the vampires were present."

"Yet they did nothing to prevent the officers' deaths."

That wasn't entirely fair.

But fair didn't matter.

Clear did.

"If these creatures are as fast and powerful as officials claim..."

He spread his hands.

"...why were human officers allowed to die?"

He paused again.

"At best, the vampires stood by."

"At worst..."

His voice lowered.

"...they may have played a much larger role than authorities are willing to admit."

He ended the recording with a call for transparency.

For accountability.

For humanity to stand together.

Then immediately began editing.

Within twenty minutes, the new video was live.

The replies came even faster than before.

You're connecting the pieces no one else will.

This can't be a coincidence.

They wanted those officers dead.

The government is protecting them.

Ethan refreshed the page.

The numbers climbed.

He laughed softly.

It was only a matter of time now.

A few more videos.

A few more confrontations.

A few more frightened citizens looking for someone to tell them what to believe.

Soon...

Everyone would know his name.

───

Valerie slowly dragged one finger upward across her phone screen.

Another post disappeared.

Another took its place.

The battery icon in the corner showed forty percent.

She stared at it for several seconds.

"...Tragic."

Once the phone died, the rest of her day would become unbearably long.

The sun had risen nearly three hours ago.

Four of the eight vampires were already asleep.

Lavinia lay beneath Valerie, her golden hair spread across the dusty floor and partly over Valerie's dress. She had gone still almost two hours earlier.

Completely still.

No breathing.

No shifting.

No subtle movements beneath her eyelids.

Nothing.

To a human, she would've looked dead.

Valerie had already become used to it.

One moment, Lavinia had been complaining about being used as a cushion.

The next, her voice faded, her body relaxed, and every movement stopped.

Gwendolyn slept with her head resting across Valerie's thighs. Her silver-white hair spilled over both sides of Valerie's lap, and one hand lay loosely against Lavinia's shoulder.

She didn't move either.

Not even when Valerie adjusted the phone above her head.

Celestine and Evelyn rested against one another near the wall.

Celestine's teal hair overlapped with Evelyn's blonde strands where their heads leaned together. Both looked like carefully positioned dolls, their eyes closed and their bodies motionless.

The absence of breathing made the maintenance room unnaturally quiet.

Only the four waking vampires produced any sound.

Rosaline sat with her back against the concrete wall, one knee raised while she absently played with the hem of her dress.

Adelaide sat beside her, listening as Cordelia spoke.

Cordelia seemed more than happy to recount every detail of her travels.

"...The second town was worse than the first," she said.

Her proper tone made the story sound almost elegant.

"They had several churches, but every one of them had narrow windows near the ceiling."

Rosaline tilted her head.

"That sounds inconvenient."

"Extremely."

Cordelia nodded gravely.

"I considered breaking into a cellar."

"What stopped you?"

"There was a very loud dog."

Rosaline stared.

Cordelia continued with complete seriousness.

"I didn't want to explain why a small vampire had broken into someone's basement while their pet tried to eat her."

Adelaide laughed.

"The dog couldn't have hurt you."

"I know."

Cordelia smiled.

"But it would've been noisy."

Valerie continued scrolling while half listening.

The maintenance space no longer smelled stale.

When they'd first entered, dust, metal, old concrete, and faint oil had dominated the air.

Now...

The scents of eight vampires had settled over everything.

The mixture clung to the walls and floor.

It gathered in the fabric of their dresses.

It turned the abandoned space into something that belonged to them, at least temporarily.

Valerie scrolled again.

A familiar face appeared.

Her expression immediately soured.

"...Oh."

The reporter from the previous night stared solemnly into the camera.

Ethan Vale.

Valerie couldn't remember whether he'd introduced himself in person, but the name now appeared beneath the video in large letters.

She turned the volume up slightly.

His voice filled the small chamber.

"...a disturbing lack of remorse..."

Valerie's lips curled.

She should've punched him.

Just once.

Perhaps twice.

She watched the clip.

The editing was obvious.

Their answers had been cut apart.

The moments where Lavinia explained that the attackers fired first were shortened.

Rosaline's comments remained almost entirely intact, naturally, because they sounded terrible without context.

Then the video reached Lavinia's question.

"If you think we're monsters... you wouldn't be too surprised if we killed you too?"

The clip paused on Lavinia's smiling face.

Valerie stared.

"...He really likes that part."

Rosaline glanced over.

"What?"

Valerie turned the screen toward her.

Rosaline watched for several seconds.

Then snorted.

"He cut out half of what happened."

"He cut out almost everything useful."

Valerie opened the comments.

They were worse.

People praised the reporter for his courage.

Some claimed the vampires would've killed him if he hadn't been recording.

Others insisted Oakridge should impose a daytime curfew on vampires, apparently unaware of how unnecessary that would be.

One particularly enthusiastic commenter suggested burning every building suspected of sheltering them.

Valerie stared at that one.

Her smile faded.

She read a little farther.

Then locked the phone.

The sudden darkness of the screen reflected her empty crimson eyes.

"...Idiots."

Rosaline watched her.

"Bad?"

"Annoying."

Valerie tilted her head against the wall.

"He edited everything to make us look like we threatened him for asking questions."

Adelaide frowned.

"We did threaten him."

Valerie looked over.

"Lavinia asked what he expected from monsters."

"That's close enough."

"Still."

Valerie rested the phone in her lap.

"He followed us."

"Called anyone who helped us a traitor."

"Then said they should be killed."

Cordelia smiled faintly.

"He does sound unpleasant."

"He is."

Valerie crossed her arms.

"And I should've punched him."

Rosaline nodded.

"I said that."

"You say many things."

"Most of them are wise."

Adelaide laughed quietly.

Rosaline looked toward the narrow tunnel leading back to the tracks.

Then her expression became more thoughtful.

"Actually..."

Everyone looked at her.

"We were seen entering the subway."

Valerie waited.

"People also saw us jump onto the tracks."

Rosaline tapped one nail against her knee.

"Wouldn't they know we're down here?"

Silence lingered for a moment.

Valerie stretched both arms overhead.

Then folded them neatly in her lap.

"If someone comes down here looking for us with ill intent..."

She shrugged.

"...We should probably kill them."

Adelaide raised one eyebrow.

"Immediately?"

Valerie looked toward the dark corridor.

"What explanation could they give?"

She gestured around the maintenance room.

"Did they lose a wallet?"

"Are they exploring?"

"Looking for buried treasure?"

Rosaline laughed.

"They might be maintenance workers."

"Then they'd have equipment."

"And probably keys."

Valerie smiled.

"If someone sneaks through a broken service door and comes deep enough to find eight sleeping vampires..."

Her expression remained pleasant.

"...I don't think they're here to say hello."

Cordelia laughed brightly.

"I'll help."

The others looked toward her.

She rested one hand lightly against her stomach.

"If someone does come down here..."

Her smile widened.

"I would like to feed."

Rosaline pointed at her.

"See?"

"Practical."

Adelaide hummed softly.

She had been awake for most of the day.

Now her eyelids lowered.

Her posture relaxed.

Slowly, she leaned sideways until her head rested against Rosaline's shoulder.

Rosaline adjusted without complaint.

Within seconds...

Adelaide's breathing ceased.

Her body became completely still.

The light green strands of her hair settled against Rosaline's arm and remained there without even the faintest movement.

Cordelia watched with interest.

"They really do stop entirely."

Rosaline nodded.

"We all do."

"It's strange the first time you see it."

Cordelia looked toward Lavinia beneath Valerie.

Then toward Celestine and Evelyn.

"And a broken neck causes the same thing?"

Valerie glanced over.

"Apparently."

"Celestine said she couldn't move or wake up until it healed."

Rosaline smiled.

"She looked exactly like this."

Cordelia tapped one finger against her lip.

"How fascinating."

"Please don't break anyone's neck to test it."

"I wasn't planning to."

Cordelia sounded almost offended.

Valerie looked at her.

"...Good."

Cordelia shifted closer to Adelaide.

She lowered herself until her head rested comfortably across Adelaide's lap.

The sleeping vampire didn't react.

Cordelia closed her eyes.

She wasn't asleep.

Valerie could still hear her faint breathing.

Still detect the tiny movements of her body.

Cordelia simply seemed content.

Rosaline looked down at her.

"We'll definitely find you blood tonight."

Cordelia opened one eye.

"You don't have to worry so much."

"We're going to."

Rosaline brushed a curl of pale blue hair away from Cordelia's face.

"You've gone without blood for nearly a week."

"We aren't letting you keep going without it."

Cordelia's smile softened.

"...Thank you."

She closed her eye again.

For several moments, the room remained quiet.

Valerie looked down at Gwendolyn's sleeping face.

Then at Lavinia beneath her.

Four asleep.

Adelaide made five.

Cordelia resting on Adelaide's lap.

Rosaline leaning against the wall.

All eight crowded together in a dusty maintenance tunnel beneath Oakridge.

It wasn't comfortable by human standards.

No beds.

No blankets.

No furniture.

Yet the closeness itself made the space feel surprisingly pleasant.

Cordelia seemed to understand that already.

After spending every night traveling alone, she looked more peaceful lying across the lap of a vampire she'd met only hours earlier than she had at any point while telling stories of her journey.

Valerie unlocked her phone again.

Thirty-nine percent.

She sighed.

Rosaline looked over.

"Still worried about the battery?"

"Yes."

"You could sleep."

Valerie glanced down at Gwendolyn.

Then at Lavinia.

"I will."

"When this dies."

Rosaline laughed.

Valerie resumed scrolling, though the reporter's video still lingered in her thoughts.

People knew where they'd gone.

People were angry.

The blood clinics were gone.

Cordelia still needed to feed.

And sunlight sealed them beneath the city until evening.

Still...

Surrounded by the potent scents of seven other vampires, Valerie couldn't bring herself to feel alone or frightened.

Annoyed, certainly.

Very annoyed.

But not afraid.

Anyone foolish enough to enter these tunnels searching for them would discover exactly how poor a decision that had been.